His Loss
by Jinnx
Summary: Based off the part in the sixth book when Ron and Lavender are fooling around and walk into the classroom Hermione is hiding in. The whole "Oppugno!" birds attack! scene. What happens after Hermione runs out of the room. Lemon and a bit OCC. R&R please


Author's Note: hey! I'm back! Sorta kinda. Don't expect much else from me for another year or two. I'd had this idea in mind for quite a while and found myself…inspired…recently ;)

So yeah. Oh! I need a favor. If there are any teenage boys out their willing to answer a few questions for me, that would be awesome. I just don't know a lot about sex from a guy's perspective. (For example: exactly how quickly along do most guys get boners? Awkward question and I know the answer for _my _ex-boyfriend, but I just want to make sure. Plus, I have no contact with him anymore, so it'd just be nice to know so I can correctly work these things into my writing. Thanks and just PM me if you're willing! ~Jinnx~

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the plot. All characters, settings, etc belong to Ms. J. K. Rowling.

_**His Loss**_

_"You shouldn't leave Lavender waiting outside," She said quietly. "She'll wonder where you've gone."_

_ She walked very slowly and erectly toward the door. Harry glanced at Ron, who was looking relieved that nothing worse had happened. _

"Oppugno_!" came a shriek from the doorway. Harry spun around to see Hermione pointing her wand at Ron, her expression wild: The little flock of birds was speeding like a hail of fat golden bullets towards Ron, who yelped and covered his face with his hands, but the birds attacked, pecking and clawing at every bit of flesh they could reach. _

_ "Gerremoffme!" He yelled, but with one last look of vindictive fury, Hermione wrenched open the door and disappeared through it. Harry thought he heard a sob before it slammed. _

What Harry had heard, was indeed a sob. Hermione ran down the practically vacant halls of the castle, hoping she wasn't noticed by anyone she knew. The shame would be unbearable. She was pretty sure she wouldn't have to worry about it; the majority of people were celebrating Gryffindor's win against Slytherin…

By now her sobs had died down, only emitting a few hiccups every now and then, but the stream of tears was still constant.

"Hermione!" It was Cormac. She ran faster, pretending not to have heard him. She went around a few blind turns and slowed to a walk. She turned her head to look to see if she saw anyone she knew, or anyone at all. She didn't. She turned another corner and promptly ran into another human going at a pretty steady pace; the force knocked her over. The other person, a guy being the only other feature she had noticed through her blurry eyes, reached out to catch her. The boy tripped over something, perhaps the wall, and fell on top of Hermione.

Draco Malfoy groaned in pain. He had stubbed his toe trying to catch the girl he had run into, causing him to trip and land on the girl, which must have been a fair amount of pain for her. He rolled off her and got to his feet. Turning around, he held his hand out to offer the girl help up. His mother had made sure that manners had been ground into Draco at a young age.

What he saw, much to his surprise, was Hermione Granger, the Mudblood, helping herself up, with silent tears running down her face.

With a mumbled apology, Hermione attempted to go around Malfoy. She really didn't need to hear his immature taunting tonight. If he tried something, she was pretty sure she would hex him into oblivion without a second thought or regret.

"Are you okay, Hermione?" The question wasn't what shocked her enough to stop and turn around. What had shocked her was the use of her first name.

"What? No Mudblood today?" Draco expected a response like that. He wasn't even sure why he had asked her in the first place. The thing that threw him was that he couldn't detect and hatred or loathing in her words. Just pure sadness.

"No. I swear. I just want to know what's wrong. I won't use it against you or anything. Scout's honor, or word, or whatever it is muggles say." She smiled. She was about to question what scouts group the wizarding world had.

"Okay, fine. I'll take your word." She said after a pause. "Honestly, it feels like everything is wrong. Know what that feels like, Draco?"

"Yeah." It described his own life at the moment perfectly. His master's orders…no way he would survive…make his father proud…"Yeah, I know what that's like." The honesty and feeling in his voice surprised her. Leaning against the wall, she slid down until she was sitting on the floor. Draco slid down next to her, running his fingers through his hair.

After a few moment's silence, he spoke again. "So, besides everything, what specifically is wrong?"

"Ever heard the saying 'Curiosity killed the cat', Draco?" Hermione questioned. She still wasn't sure why he cared.

"I'm no cat. I just want to know." Draco prodded. He wanted her to keep talking, wanted her to say his name again. It sounded nice coming from her pretty lips….He inwardly shook his head. What the hell had gotten into him? She's a bloody _Mudblood_. He should be trying to get her to go away, no, he should have just let her walk away instead of asking her what was wrong. He needed to work on the Vanishing Cabinet. The planned date was only weeks away—

"Ron." Hermione's sudden spoken words distracted him from his thoughts.

"What?"

"You asked what was wrong and I answered. Ron. He ruined _everything. _I mean I've been mad at him before, but never this mad, never vengeful." She trailed off.

Unbeknown to Hermione, Draco had run by Weasel snogging that dim Gryffindor that was in his Potions class. Rosemary, or some other flower name, he couldn't remember. "You liked him?" For some reason just the thought of her liking the Weasel made his gut churn. He didn't like this feeling.

"I…I don't know….I think I thought I did, if that makes sense." It did. It made perfect sense to him.

She continued. "Everyone thought we would get together at some point. Even his family would drop hints and such at dinner. They've been doing it for pushing a year now. I think I just got so used to it I expected it to happen too. "

"Did you ever really think about it? How you two would work out, I mean." Draco questioned. His curiosity was getting the best of him. He knew he had to stop. But he wasn't.

"Oh, I know how it would turn out." It came out before she could stop herself. "Damn. I mean…I…I…" She tried thinking of a lie to cover her slip.

"What do you mean by that?" He sounded incredulous.

"I…nothing. It doesn't matter." She sat there uncomfortably for a few seconds before she felt him looking at her. She turned to see his grey eyes piercing her. That's what they meant when girls say a guy's eyes seemed to undress them. They weren't even doing anything intimate, yet she felt herself being drawn into him.

She shook of the feeling. She couldn't feel like that. He was Draco freaking Malfoy for God's sake. The one who had tormented Harry, her, and…Ron. "We hooked up once. We had had too many butterbeers and fire whiskey. I hadn't done anything remotely fun with any guys since I came back to school and the common rooms were empty because of the holiday break. So…I let it happen. I didn't do anything to stop him. I just let it happen. It was awkward. He didn't know what he was doing or anything. So I finally stopped him. It was the farthest he'd ever been and I guess he assumed I was his girlfriend after that. At least, that's how he treated me."

Draco just sat there staring at the wall in front of them. What was he supposed to say? The girl had practically just admitted she doesn't get laid enough. That she doesn't have any fun. Was he supposed to say, "Oh, I'm sorry about your situation. That must be tough." Or he could offer her the time of her life. Pull her up, drag her to the wall and ravish her.

The second options sounded much more appealing.

Instead he smirked. Which turned into a grin, which turned into a few low chuckles Draco tried to smother behind his hand. Despite his attempts to hide his laughter, Herminone noticed, and moved to stand up. With a look of disgust, she said, "I knew it was stupid to confide in you, you fucking bastard—."

He grabbed onto her arm, stopping her from getting up and leaving, and, laughing even harder now, said, "Wait, Mione, I'm not laughing at you."

She crossed her arms and glared down at him, "What exactly then, are you laughing at?"

He finally got his laughing under control, "It's just that, I knew, I _knew, _Weaslbee wouldn't be any good in the sack. But now that I have _conformation, _from you no less, it's just even better. I promise I won't tell anyone. It's just the _knowing _that there is just yet _another _thing I'm better at them him."

She raised an eyebrow, "Awfully cocky, aren't we? Who says you're any good?" She immediately regretted her words. _'Who says.' _Who hadn't said? It was common talk in all the girls' lavatories and dormitories, how good he was. Though now that she thought about it, she hadn't heard much of that talk recently. She had heard rumours, though, that he was smitten, and _that _was the reason he wasn't bedding a different girl every week. After all, as she had heard Pansy explain in the lavatory last week, there had to be _some_ reason.

His smile widened, if that was possible. "Granger. Do you doubt the fact that I am better than Weaslbee? I am, after all, _the _Slytherin Sex God. Haven't you heard?"

Of course she had heard. She didn't live under a rock. Not that she would tell him that. She doubted he would have understood the muggle saying. "I've heard things. But I tend not to listen to rumours. I'd rather make my own judgment."

Jesus Christ. Did she just invite him to shag her? By the look on his face he thought she did. The funny—and, in her opinion, disturbing—thing about it was that she couldn't bring herself to regret it.

Merlin's pants. Draco got invitations like this fairly often, due to his flattering status as Sex God, but he'd been turning them all down, as of late. He had work to do, and couldn't be distracted from the Vanishing Cabinet by some meaningless romp. But, God, as if he would ever turn down an offer to bed Hermione Granger, the brains of the famous trio.

He leaned closer, his lips hovering inches over hers. "Well, Granger, I invite you to pass your own judgment." He stayed where he was, willing her to make the first move, just to make sure she wouldn't wimp out of Gryiffindor courage at the last minute.

She drew a hand up and caressed the back of his neck with her nails. The feeling made his shiver. Giving him a smirk to match his own, she replied, "I think I'll take advantage of your offer, Malfoy."

And she pulled him down for a kiss.

Oh, goodness. She had known from other girls that Draco knew how to kiss, knew how to make a girl's knees go weak, and how to have her begging for more without even using tongue, but, Merlin, she had thought the others had been exaggerating. If anything, they had been under exaggerating. It didn't matter who was kissing her. If she had ever been kissed like this before, she would have done anything for the guy just to be kissed again. His lips moved slowly yet roughly against hers, inciting little mews from the back of her throat.

All of a sudden—Draco hadn't been expecting it at all—Hermione gave his bottom lip a gentle nip, using the time which he drew back in surprise to catch her breath. He stared down at her, her face flushed, sitting half on his lap, panting with her red lips slightly open. He vaguely wondered if she thought he looked nearly as appealing to her as she looked sexy to him.

He gave her another quick, harsh kiss and pulled away. "Let's go."

A record breaking minute and a half later, the pair was standing in front of a blank wall. Draco walked back and forth three times before a door appeared.

Hermione wasn't the first girl he planned to bed in the Room of Requirements, but she was the first he had brought there on such a moment's notice. Usually he did a little research and figured out what the girl liked first. The last girl had been Italian and had a thing for the canals of Venice. So that was what he asked of the room. But he hadn't had the opportunity to do that this time, so he just thought, "_I need a romantic place for Hermione and me where we won't be caught. I need a romantic place for Hermione and me where we won't be caught. I need a romantic place for Hermione and me where we won't be caught."_

He had no idea what the room would supply, but he was pleasantly surprised. He would have chosen this room over the Venice room in a heartbeat.

It was dark, the only light coming from a flickering fireplace against the wall. In front of it lay a pile of pillows and blankets. No furniture decorated the room, and no pictures hung from the walls. The only other noticeable thing was a bookshelf built into the wall about the fireplace. It was simple and oh so inviting.

The soft click of the door behind him distracted him from his thoughts. He turned. Hermione looked back at him with cloudy, lusty eyes that he was sure mirrored his own.

In a fluid movement he pulled her to him and returned to ravishing her lips. She tasted sweet, butterbeer, maybe, he thought, and of salty tears. He thought it was delicious. He slowly slipped her robe off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor and continued kissing her, pausing only to pull her sweater over her head.

She wore only a thin fitted tanktop now, and her skirt, having slipped off her shoes and socks when they had arrived to the room. He ran his hands up and down her body, admiring the curves she had so well hidden under her baggy school robes. He knew that now that he knew what she was hiding, he wouldn't ever forget it.

She pulled back slightly to catch her breath. He could see her chest heaving, her breasts pushing at the confines of her bra as he trailed hot, wet kisses down her neck. He brought her earlobe into his mouth, gently nipping and sucking.

Hermione slid one hand under his shirt and the other to the front of his jeans, where she unbuckled his belt, but didn't do anything else. Draco forgot gentle and bit down on the soft flesh where her neck met her collarbone, inciting a moan from the still-panting Hermione.

His hands played with the bottom of her skirt, lightly tugging, but not strong enough to do any damage or to pull it off. Until a moment when Hermione felt particualry bold and grabbed at his quickly hardening member. His groan was captured, for Hermione had started lightly sucking on his tongue. He jerked back uncontrollably. Draco heard a soft ripping sound and realized he had taken her skirt with him, leaving her in scarlet lace panties.

She wasn't as innocent as he had mistaken her to be. The thought made him want to lose it right then.

Letting out a growl, Draco grabbed Hermione's hips and roughly pulled her towards him, latching his lips back on to hers.

God, she was getting impatient. She was done with the foreplay. Hermione had been ready to go almost the moment he kissed her. But dear lord, did it feel _so good. _No other man she had been with had evoked feelings that could even compare to this. Granted, she hadn't been with all that many guys, but really. If this was just foreplay, she couldn't even fathom what the sex would feel like.

She had a feeling that there wasn't anyone who could even come close to competing for the title of Slytherin Sex God.

Hermione let her fingers nimbly unbutton his shirt and slipped it off his shoulders, dragging her fingers down his biceps. The muscles tensed and relaxed under her touch.

Still kissing, she ground her hips into his. She heard another growl and a familiar rip. The cold air met her skin and she knew she had just lost her cami. "You're ruining all my clothes," she giggled in his ear, her breathing heavy.

She was wearing a matching bra and the sight unlocked something territorial in him, almost like an angry feeling, that anyone else had seen her like this. Particularly the weasel. "I can hardly be held responsible," he whispered back, his voice low and dangerous.

In one smooth move, he had unhooked her bra and in almost the same moment his lips were on her nipple, sucking, tweaking. She threw her head back, whimpering uncontrollably. One hand was on the other breast and his other was lightly trailing down her stomach, cupping her, and oh, god, he could feel how wet she was through her panties. She flushed in embarrassment.

He tore his mouth off her and she whimpered in protest. The look he sent her was one she couldn't identify in her lust induced stupor. It was like a glare, hard and angry and possessive and filled with the kind of wanting that wasn't actually wanting at all. The kind of wanting you feel even after you know you're going to get whatever it is that you desired.

The look turned her on almost more than his kisses did.

In one fluid motion, he had picked her up by her thighs—she responded by wrapping her legs around his waist—and laid her down on the pile of pillows in front of the fire.

A few seconds later her panties had been ripped off, his jeans and boxers discarded dangerously close to the crackling flames.

Using most of her strength, she flipped them, now sitting on his thighs, his member a dominating spear between them.

Hermione wasn't usually one to take action, but something about Draco made her feel…inspired. She lightly stroked his dick with her hand, while still kissing his neck and chest. It was hot and pulsing and felt oh so good in her palm. She scooted down his legs, grinding lightly down on him to ease the growing pressure, and took him into her mouth.

She saw the immediate change in Draco. He went shockingly still, the only movement were the tensing of his muscles, visible under his pale skin. He was biting fiercely down on his bottom lip and breathing deeply through his nose.

She bobbed slowly up and down a few times just to watch his reaction. His eyes clenched tighter shut, his knuckles were white from the force by which he was fisting a pillow, and the most delicious sounds were coming from the back of his throat.

Hermione smirked to herself. She had him at her fingertips and she knew it. She started sucking and swirling her tongue around his head before she was interrupted.

Draco couldn't take this anymore. He had been on the receiving end of quite a few blowjobs in his life, but this one… He wasn't sure what it was, but he was closer to release than he ever had before in such a short amount of time. And he wasn't going to blow his load before he had even really entered her.

Not ungentle, but with obvious urgency, Draco grabbed Hermione and pulled her up, kissing her fiercely, the taste of him still on her lips.

He paused before entering her, hovering over while silently asking for permission with his eyes. Permission which she silently granted. With one quick thrust he was in and, dear god, did it feel so good. Her back arched up, her chest thrust forward towards him and the sight was so arousing.

He started moving. Just slow in and outs, the rhythm and her tightness driving them both crazy. An immeasurable amount of time passed, the heavy air filled with the moans and commands of "faster!", "harder!", "again!"

Her orgasm was coming, she could feel it. Her body started to tense and the only thing she could get out of her mouth was a breathy, "Dracoo-_oh!_" before it felt like all her muscles started spazing.

She tried to catch her breath, needed a break, but Draco wouldn't let her. He wanted to hear her say his name like that again. So he pounded into her, faster, harder than he had ever remembered doing to a girl before and before long Hermione felt herself about to fall over the edge again, this time, with Draco right beside her.

This time Hermione let out a few shrieks before letting out the same, "Dracoo_-oh!" _ With a few final pumps, he released into her, while groaning her name into her ear, focusing on not collapsing onto her with his full body weight.

Once his muscle spasms stopped, he rolled to the side and laid next to her. The only sounds were that of the fire and their heavy breathing.

Draco cracked a smile, "Well, I have to give it to you, Granger, that was, by far, one of the best shags of my life."

Hermione grinned and stretched, giving Draco a fabulous view of her chest, with signs of their lovemaking starting to appear already. "I have to agree, Malfoy. Again sometime?"

"Definitely," he nodded his agreement. He chuckled.

"Hmmm?"

He lifted himself up on one elbow to look down at her. "I'm thinking about was the Weasel missed out on. He's a dumbass for letting go off you." He didn't say it as a means of flattery, but found he didn't not mean that way either. And as soon as he said it, he regretted it. What if he was just a rebound fuck type of thing and now that he reminded her of Weasley, she was going to start crying or something?

To his relief she only laughed. "Yeah, much too bad for him."

They started dressing in a comfortable silence until Hermione unexpectedly muttered, "_Asshole!" _

"Excuse me?" Draco asked, one eyebrow raised.

"You've ruined my panties, my shirt, my skirt, _and _my robe is scorched," she examined the sleeve that had been too close to the fire. "_Asshole." _She paused and aimed her wand at something in Draco's hand. "_Accio."_

The next thing he knew, she was wearing his shirt. It was long enough to hide everything from view, but short enough to still be extremely revealing. He thought it was the sexiest thing he had ever seen, with her sex hair, and still bruised lips.

"I'm in the library most nights," she said, distracting him from his thoughts of a round two, "Just so you know where to find me." And with that, she turned and left through the door that had just appeared in the wall for her.

Draco fell against the wall. What in Merlin's name had he gotten himself into, he questioned, shaking his head in pleasant disbelief.

_The End_


End file.
